The day-page-set for the love letters to the fluorescent lady
Read the page fluorescent lady, explained.
more about materia balls
I’m trying to keep them all together. This is no love letter, it’s just a way wishing you - lil - a good night and letting the world know about it.
about materia balls
The moon is far away. I mean not far away in an astronomical sense. In an astonomical sense she’s just a millimeter away from us compared to all the other materia balls flying around in the universe. But she’s far away compared to the subway station next to you or to New Zealand or to anything else global. You can ocasionally see her - the moon - at night times as a disk or as parts of a disk in the sky when there are no clouds preventing the direct view into infinity. She grows and deminishes, grows and deminishes. She does eversince there has been the first human, the first beast, the first plant, the first life on earth. She’s unstable and she’s reliable. She always has been and she always will be.
I have no idea why I tell you this. Maybe it’s to draw your attention for a second? Maybe it’s for the same reason that eating a piece of chocolate is even more delicious when you first have to unwrap it from its silverish aluminium foil cover? Probably that.
I did dream about you (amongst) last night, wildly mixing up everything. I woke up all happy like I didn’t for a long time, smiling and still shaking my head while preparing my first coffee.
I really do
A miserable day full of obligations, a lot of silly tech but no progress at all comes to an end. I wish I’d now deserve to dream about your tender, big and beautiful eyes, lil. I really do.
Have dreams full of pink and turquoise bubbles, lil. →·←
Let me wish you an evening full of attention. Attention to you like the white shawl of a 1930ies movie actor swung around his neck.
a hell of a parade
Dear fluorescent mistress of the bread,
You are at least somewhere, you’re real, somehow.
Wolkenkuckucksheim is a vast land. The seagulls oversee things. They pass over to the Heim, every evening. And they make a hell of a parade before doing so. Right before the night descends.
Sleep tight, jolly queenie.
My trans/fluorescent lilly dear,
The poetry of things is (un)limited. Maybe on the long run …
You’re so beautiful sleeping.
I mean, you do not really expect me to share on everything (though it’s tempting, I know), do you?
Dunno about the current moon. But let me appear in your dreams as a potato or something, please.
your beautiful clock
We exchanged totems in that bar: I gave you gabbiani, you gave me мышка. We fullfilled the circle. Not willingly, maybe it was due to a temporary wind in time or suchlike. Anyhow. We are above it all, I guess.
May I ask what time it is on your beautiful clock, lil’?
according to your moods
And still, I assume the gabbiani mostly circling in front of my window but rarely right above of it to change their ways according to your moods.
The other night I felt you painfully bright and clear like I did last in early 2012. And yet, time in the magical sphere has limited significance. The impulse coming in through your emotio-magnetic antennas might as well have its source in someone imaging your ideas a hundred years ago as in someone thinking about you in real-time at the other end of the world.
good night, dear lilly
Леди, месит тесто и тем самым сама освещенная,
I first couldn’t create the user account google - plus fluorescent lady. A little research later I found out about the old English origin of lady and the functional account name now is fluörescent hlæfdige.
Try to pronounce hlæfdige, my dear lady, please. I’d guess hlæf is loaf and dige is the woman making the loaf. And over time laef and dige grew la·dy.
The lady is the woman making the bread, even in Russian: Леди.
And now to something completely different:
Did you realize that when reloading the wiki page facebook page fluorescent lady the hearts and icons in the like-box recombine? Sometimes it’s me on the left, sometimes it’s me on the right looking at you through a changing numbers of hearts. You, always, look forwards into the future. This is a nicer end to this love letter than Zuck’s repeated reloading of his lady’s page in the final scene of The social network, innit?
I like your bread, flou. Good night.
My dear lil’ flou lil’,
Thanks for your patience with me. You are very inspiring.
Whoosh goes the full moon!
It’s like sitting by a railroad track at nighttime out somewhere in the nowhere. Silence. Not even a wolf howling in the distance.
And suddently there’s this screaming monster of an express train passing. The noise, the wind, you see people in the compartments clinking champaign glasses …
And next moment it’s gone. Whoosh!
Have a good time here, lil’.
… and dry them in the midnight wind …
Good night lily, dear.
This page includes the recent 15 love letters to the fluorescent lady. To see earlier love letters click the link “More…” above or click the user account soup.io - fluorescent lady, scroll down and touch the bottom of the page.
Define external redirect: Mattis Manzel